


nothing's more real than what it is

by alderations



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Mechanisms Femslash Week, Polyamory, aka canon-typical 'we're immortal we can do what we want', also canon-typical mentions of cannibalism, unhealthy eating habits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26096170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: The screwdriver in her hand isn’t shaking, because she is a cyborg, and her hands do not shake. Maybe Raphaella is playing with magnets again, and that’s making the damn thing wobble in front of her eyes, but it is absolutely not because of her.(Spaceship girlfriends are very good at reminding stubborn immortal cyborgs of their own limitations.)
Relationships: Ivy Alexandria/Nastya Rasputina, The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72
Collections: Mechanisms Femslash Week 2020





	nothing's more real than what it is

**It has been 13 hours and 42 minutes since you had something to eat.**

Nastya hums. “Is that so? Fascinating.”

The screwdriver in her hand isn’t shaking, because she is a cyborg, and her hands do not shake. Maybe Raphaella is playing with magnets again, and that’s making the damn thing wobble in front of her eyes, but it is absolutely not because of  _ her.  _ In front of her, the panel covering the controls to one of Aurora’s auxiliary air filtering systems lies on the ground, tiny screws strewn in all directions, because whoever designed her girlfriend did not have Nastya’s cold hands in mind when making everything so fucking delicate. But it’s not a big enough adjustment to make her day-to-day list, which usually consists of mitigating Tim- and Ashes-related damage.

**Humans should generally eat at least once every five hours.**

“That is for humans with  _ blood,  _ dear,” corrects Nastya. “I don’t need… nutrients or whatever.”

**My diagnostics inform me that this is incorrect.**

Rolling her eyes, Nastya tosses the screwdriver onto the metal flooring with a  _ clang.  _ Stupid thing won’t quit shaking. She’s going to find some creative way to kill Raphaella later, though she’ll make it interesting enough that Raph won’t mind, because she’s not  _ that  _ much of an asshole. “What diagnostics? I don’t see why—”

**Nastya. You can feel when I malfunction. I can feel when you are hungry.**

“I’m not hungry! I would tell you if I was hungry. Why wouldn’t I—”

**You are avoiding the kitchen because Jonny and Marius have been sitting in there with a microphone, narrating everything that happens, for the past two days.**

As always, Aurora knows far more than she has any right to. “It’s  _ very  _ annoying,” she grumbles.

A handful of lights on the panel in front of her flicker, and then something next to her starts to hum. She’s not even sure what that particular section of the wall is hiding, because Aurora is full of surprises, but she doesn’t bat an eye when the wall slides open and a cup full of dull green powder pops out.  **This is true. Can I offer you something that does not involve going to the kitchen?**

“Is that resequenced spinach? Please tell me you’re not trying to experiment on me in the burgeoning stages of your sentient machine revolution.”

**Of course not.** The lights flicker again, softer this time, in purple and red tones that make Nastya’s heart flutter even though she is, admittedly, cranky and frustrated with the world. She reaches out toward the control panel and runs her thumb down a switch, smiling at the way Aurora hums with gentle electricity under her touch.  **It is simply deconstructed kale.**

“Deconstructed—you  _ are  _ trying to kill me!” Nastya pulls back from the panel indignantly, while Aurora laughs, a flurry of blinking lights and cascading vibrations. “I cannot believe you! And after I spent all day fixing your filtration systems because  _ you  _ let the Toy Soldier fuck them up.”

**My calculations did not predict how much trouble it could cause with a label maker. Besides, I myself have no particular need for filtered air.**

Nastya shakes her head, then keeps shaking it, because she’s mesmerized by the smooth sway of her hair in the corner of her vision. “You resort to petty threats now, I see. I could just leave this panel lying here, let you find your  _ own  _ screwdriver, and then—”

“Nastya?”

She definitely does  _ not  _ jump at the sound of another voice coming down the hallway, but she does appreciate the way Aurora resonates with comfort and reassurance, the ship’s emotions bleeding smoothly into her own. “Who’s there?”

A light goes on at the end of the hallway, revealing a shock of red hair and a flute wielded like a weapon. “The ship informed me that you were in need of a meal, and Jonny was starting to worry about you, too. He did tell me not to say as much, but that seemed dishonest,” Ivy muses. Realizing that Nastya is alone and not going to attack her, she lowers her flute and instead holds up a clear plastic box of something that looks decisively better than deconstructed kale. “I brought you dinner. Can I help you with this panel?”

“I—thank you,” Nastya replies, looking down at the floor. “I could have gotten my own food, though. I was just—”

**She has been trying to replace the same screw for half an hour. Assistance would be deeply appreciated.**

Ivy smiles at the wall and takes the screwdriver from where Nastya abandoned it, twirling it between her stupidly warm-blooded librarian fingers. “Thank you, Aurora. It would make sense for your hands to get shaky, given the seventy-six percent chance that you’re experiencing mild hypoglycemia,” she says to Nastya as she hands over the food.

“Can’t have low blood sugar if I don’t have  _ blood,”  _ Nastya grumbles. “Those screws are just too small for human hands.”

By the time she’s done griping, Ivy has already slid the panel back into place and reattached one side. “Of course. And all your organs run just fine on mercury, I’m sure.”

Nastya scowls into the box of what is hopefully the human-free version of Jonny’s New Texan meatball casserole. If she stifles a rush of affection at the thought of Jonny cooking for her, no one has to know. “I have yet to see any system failures. No blood, no hemoglobin, no oxygen. I do not see how any of this is a disadvantage.”

**You appear to be breathing on a regular basis, if my sensors are still working properly.**

Ivy responds with a giggle that makes Nastya’s heart do… something. Of course, that could also be explained by all the extraneous oxygen that she apparently has floating around in her blood. “You seem perfectly content to eat Jonny’s casserole, even if you don’t  _ need  _ to. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Before Nastya can protest, Ivy finishes screwing the panel into place and heads back the way she came, stopping only to plant a kiss on Nastya’s cheek. The hallway is silent for a long minute, except for Aurora’s bubbly electronic laughter. “You—you planned that! I can’t believe you, scheming little—”

**I only planned to get you something to eat. Perhaps I thought that you were in need of a kiss, but I did not broadcast such information. Have you considered that Ivy can read minds?**

“You—okay, if  _ anyone  _ on this ship has the ability to break into your processors and read your thoughts, it’s Ivy, but that’s beside the point. I am tens of thousands of years old, and I can feed myself!”

**You look very cute when you try to pout and chew at the same time. I love you!**

Nastya wants to argue again, but she can’t keep herself from smiling and rocking back and forth on her feet when she feels Aurora’s enthusiasm rushing over her. “I—I love you too. And this casserole is very good. That does not mean you won this argument.”

**There are no humans in the meatballs. Jonny did try to add some, but I turned on the sprinklers until he gave up.**

“Did you…?”

**Yes, I recorded the whole thing. Marius was making some incredible faces in the background.**

A small screen descends from the ceiling, already projecting the image of Jonny looking like a kitten in a thunderstorm, and Nastya leans against the wall, tipping her head into the metal as if to diffuse some of her overwhelming affection back into Aurora herself. “Dinner, a movie,  _ and  _ blackmail material. What more could a woman want?”

Aurora just laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> WOW writing Aurora is really fun, holy shit. I absolutely love the balance of "very factual straightforward inhuman AI" and "snarky affectionate spaceship who just likes to mess with her gf". Also I'm having some Ivy Feelings so be prepared for a lot of her this week, I guess. I just think that... Nastya deserves Several girlfriends?? That is all.
> 
> Kudos make me smile, comments make my day!!! I hope to finish out this week (it's been, like, 2 years since I last did this kind of fandom event, but given my recent track record I don't think it should be an issue) so I'll be around lol. come find me on tumblr @alderations or twitter @alderwrites! At your own risk, because I like to talk about my feelings.
> 
> title is from Stay for Real by Young Galaxy, which has BIG nastya/aurora vibes.


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